Meimei Pt. 02

An Shan began wailing a new climax. It was all pleasure and all pain simultaneously. I'd never heard her so loud. My fingers felt absolutely sopping with her fluids.

Her orgasm marshaled me to my own. I drove myself inside of her one last time and held there. Her anus strangled the base of my penis. I had never felt so joined, so completely inside.

An Shan felt my grip on her tit become vice-like. She felt my fingers freeze, clamped on her vulva. And I knew she felt my cock inject her ass with another helping of semen because she told me so in Mandarin.

When the power of my orgasm subsided, I released her.

I rolled us onto her tummy. Straddling her ass as she lay prone underneath me, I slowly drew my cock free.

An Shan's anus winked once and then cinched closed, securing inside of her two complete doses of my cum.

I collapsed beside her, drew us together, and kissed her neck.

She murmured, "Wo ai ni, Jian Dao." (I love you)

I let her sleep. Even though my body felt ready for sleep, relaxed and tired from the sex, my mind remained too active.

How suddenly things had changed--from eight months of cold hatred to twenty-four hours of raw lust. From "Fuck you, yang gui zi" to "I love you, Jian Dao."

I didn't understand how such a transformation was possible. What changed twenty-four hours ago?

The previous morning, I made my favorite breakfast and called her a dumb slut--in a kidding way. For the first time, I had openly spoken about our previous sexual relationship, reminding her we'd almost fucked. We argued, and I told her I needed to move on. She cried; I soothed her. We slept beside one another, and I fucked her tits.

What was it, I wondered, in that set of events that would bring about such a change? Could it be that she missed physical intimacy so much that my touches and the closeness of our bodies in her bed triggered the alteration?

Maybe.

On that basis, maybe her "I love you" was just pillow talk.

If it was, I wasn't sure that I cared. I felt good about myself. I knew that the moment I wanted to find a girlfriend, I could make it happen. I didn't need An Shan; I wanted her. There was a difference.

I cared deeply about her, but I knew she might still be a bit irrational about our relationship. I was mentally prepared for more of her "whatever" bullshit, and in that way I was free.

Feeling liberated, I asked myself what it meant if her "I love you" was real, if she meant every word of it.

I slid from her bed and returned to my room to sleep.

***

In the morning, we ate quickly, and I walked An Shan to school.

None of the typical sharp January breezes assaulted us on our jaunt down Boylston Street towards Berklee; it was dead peaceful, sunny, and cold. Even the streets seemed tranquil. I don't recall hearing cars, but only the occasional crunch of snowy ice underfoot.

"I'm sorry," An Shan said without turning toward me.

"We're fine. We'll be a couple of minutes late is all."

Her hand touched my arm. We stopped.

"No," she said, "I'm sorry that I caused you to have to come here. I'm sorry I have been so awful to you since last summer. I'm sorry I called you a foreign devil--shit, there's just so much to apologize to you for--I'm sorry I told you to fuck off. I'm sorry I freaked out about us."

It took me a few moments to take it all in. Finally, I nodded. "What about 'us'?" I asked.

She watched me. She looked around, and she turned back to me, saying, "There's a lot to talk about, isn't there?"

I nodded.

An Shan said, "I can have a sick day if you can."

I considered it for a moment, and then I smiled.

She did, too.

Both of us broke out our cell phones and made the necessary calls.

When we finished, I held out my hand, and she took it. "So what about 'us'?" I asked as we strolled back to the apartment.

"I like 'us' a lot," she said.

"Me too."

An Shan grinned at me. When she turned back, she watched her feet for a few strides before asking, "Do you think there could be a--a bigger 'us,' one that is more than just the things we do together in bed?"

I nodded. "I think so, but I've struggled with the idea."

"Have you?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me?"

I said, "It began when you made me watch your rehearsal for Berklee."

"Really?"

I nodded. "It was the first time I saw you as something other than my smart sister. You were just so incredibly beautiful and sexy; I was torn apart."

"How?"

"I wanted to touch you, but I also wanted to be a dutiful brother and son--jiating zeren, you know?"

She sighed and repeated, "Jiating zeren."

"Being adopted but with parents having a biological daughter, I always felt a bit like an outsider in the family--nothing against Baba and Mama you understand. They've always been great parents, and I love them. It was just me and knowing I was adopted that made me feel that way."

"I understand," An Shan offered.

"Not being Chinese like you guys just added to that feeling, and I guess I saw myself as--. Do you remember that old Chinese story Mama read to us when we were little? About the otter who helps the beaver family?"

"Yes."

"Right, so I saw myself in our family like the otter did in the beaver family. I was honorary, not official. I was a volunteer sort of."

"I hope we never made you feel unofficial, Jian Dao."

We caught one another's eyes.

She added, "Except, you know, the terrible things I said and did."

"No. Apart from the foreign devil thing you guys were always great," I assured her. "Anyways, it was that outsider feeling that enabled me to see you all differently--to see Mama and Baba as teachers and mentors as much as parents, and to see you as a friend as much as a sister."

She nodded, staring at the sidewalk.

"When I saw how beautiful and sexy you were that day, it split me apart. Half of me hated those thoughts, knowing you were my sister. The other half loved them because you were my friend."

An Shan squeezed my hand.

We stopped, and she turned toward me, saying, "I know exactly what you mean."

I pulled her to me, and in the cold sunshine of Back Bay that morning, I kissed her. When I drew back, she smiled, and we walked on.

I said, "Will you tell me how you know exactly what I mean?"

She seemed to think about this for a few moments before beginning. "You know how people react when someone tells them their brother or sister is hot? How, like, they always say, 'Ew, gross,' or 'Shut up,' or something like that?"

"Yeah."

"I never felt that way about you. When one of my friends said something to me about you, I never said anything back. They'd say something like, 'I know you don't want to hear this, An Shan, but JD is so gorgeous,' and I wouldn't say anything. I couldn't. All I would be thinking is that they were right, and I didn't know how to feel about those thoughts."

"Guilt?"

"Yes, but excitement, too. Like you said, I was torn. So when things began to happen between us, that guilt made me never ever want to call it for what it was. It had to be something else--massages and tastes. I needed to be able to stand on both sides. I wanted you, and I wanted jiating zeren, and the only way I felt I could have both was to deny what we were really doing."

I nodded. "So, that day when I asked you about us...?"

"I couldn't handle it because you called it what it was. I couldn't stand on both sides, so I freaked out."

I said, "I didn't mean to cause you pain like that."

"You didn't. I did. It was my fault. I never once considered how you felt the whole time we were doing things together. So when you asked, I was only thinking of myself and my guilt, and I had to shove you away. I couldn't even look at you because it reminded me of the truth. I hated you for being this kind of walking, talking reminder of the truth."

How wrong I had been about her motivations. "It's okay, An Shan. I think I understand now."

She wiped her eyes with her mittens. "I'm so sorry," she cried. "I was just so terrified of how I felt about you."

"It's okay."

"But nothing," she repeated, "nothing excuses me for how I treated you. Mama and Baba, too. I was terrible. I was lost. I couldn't focus on music; all I could think about was my fear. I tried to become someone else. I drank. I skipped classes. I never practiced."

"Did you see anyone?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I never even kissed another guy."

"It worked out though, didn't it? It brought us together here."

"Did it work out, though? I think about the freedom you lost, JD, having to come here with me."

I smiled. "It worked out."

"But the other day you said you wanted to move forward with your life."

I drew a deep, purifying breath of the frigid air. Releasing it, I said, "I suppose I was convinced you hated my guts and that there was nothing I could do to change your mind."

"And now that you know I don't?"

"I still move on, but together with you."

An Shan squeezed my gloved hand, and then she brought it to her lips, kissing it.

"How's my glove taste?" I asked.

She laughed.

Over the next block, neither of us spoke. I wondered if she felt the way I did--like a newly freed prisoner. All of the possibilities of a new life lay before me.

On the steps outside our apartment building, An Shan finally asked a question. "What do we do about Baba and Mama?"

"You mean do we tell them we're--?"

An Shan nodded and finished for me. "--in love?"

"Yeah," I said, "do we tell them we're in love?"

She smiled and I did, too.

"I'll figure something out," I said, but I had no idea how one broaches that subject with one's parents.

***

There was not a lot of talking back in the apartment except for one moment. An Shan broke a kiss from me, and gasped, "One thing before?"

"Hmm?"

"I know you might want to, but we mustn't have sex. Not for real."

"No," I said quickly. "No, I--I won't. I don't want to either."

"We can't," she said.

"Jiating zeren."

Nodding, she added, "Mama and Baba."

We stripped one another naked in the hallway of the apartment, barely inside the door. She dropped to her knees to pleasure me.

I loved it, but I needed her, too.

Gently pulling her off me, I carried her to the couch and laid down under her. She spun, and we pleasured each other with our mouths.

An Shan was asleep when I called home. I spoke with Baba for a time, assuring him that An Shan and I were both doing very well in school and, for me, at work. When Mama took the phone, I asked her if Baba was listening.

"Bu ting." (No.)

"Mama, ching shuo Yingwen, keyi bu keyi?" I asked her. (May we speak English, please?)

She agreed.

I told her that I loved her daughter, that I loved An Shan--not as her older brother, but as a man.

She was dead silent.

"Mama?"

"Wait for me," she said--without joy or anger, "I will be there tomorrow--by myself--to see."

I told An Shan when she woke, and we spent the late evening and into the early morning talking about what it might mean that Mama was flying out that very next day and that she was coming "to see."

My meimei was terrified.

Our Mama was a force. What she wanted, she got. Baba, so often like glacial ice on matters, would melt only for his wife. An Shan and I knew that, had I told our father, Baba would rant and spit and curse for a time, but it would pass. Mama, on the other hand, was eerily patient. She could hold out for months, years it seemed if she felt it necessary.

An Shan and I held each other tightly on her bed, kissing and making promises to one another. She felt my erection surge between her legs, pushing against her wetness. The fear in her eyes made them glassy. Almost in tears, she parted her thighs ever so slightly, ever so tentatively.

She would have let me. She wanted to let me.

She wanted comfort.

I drew my cock back and away. I was not going to do something that would make us both feel even more guilty. Instead, I held her close, kissing her and assuring her.

***

An Shan made dinner; I drove to Logan to pick up Mama.

The old Chinese woman wore her big parka, and I almost laughed at how thick and bubbly the coat was on her little body. Her only luggage was a small carry-on.

She did not hug me or kiss me. She walked past me to the car and waited for me to open her door. Once inside together, I asked how long she planned on staying.

"Long enough," she said. And that was the last thing she said until we got home.

Earlier that day, An Shan and I had set up the master bedroom for her. I gave An Shan my bed, and I took the couch in the family room.

Upon arrival, I showed Mama into the apartment. An Shan waited at the kitchen threshold. The house smelled like Mama's favorite--Lurou Fan, a pork dish served over rice. Mama nodded to An Shan, passing into the family room.

I led her into the master bedroom; An Shan followed. Mama surveyed the space and nodded. She signaled for us to leave her alone.

An Shan said, "Dinner in ten minutes okay, Mama?"

Another nod. We left.

***

At dinner, the three of us barely fit around our tiny, two-person table. I had to borrow a fold-out chair from a neighbor to give myself a place. I ate with my plate on my lap. Meimei had done excellent work with the pork; it was tender and so, so savory.

Mama did not comment.

So, we ate in silence until, toward finishing, An Shan asked, "Mama, does Baba know why you're here?"

Mama stared at An Shan for a moment, and then she said, "If he did, would I be alone?"

An Shan sat back.

I asked, "Why are you here, Mama?"

"To see."

An Shan and I looked at one another. "What," she asked, "does that mean?"

Mama said, "Exactly what you think it means."

Again, my meimei and I exchanged confused glances, but before either of us could utter a follow-up, Mama said, "Let me eat in peace. Talk later."

An Shan and I sat back almost simultaneously. I watched Mama's face, and it almost seemed like she was enjoying the situation--enjoying her children being so distraught.

Both of us having already finished, we watched Mama eat with painstaking lethargy, and when she finished, she turned to An Shan and said, "Well done."

I cleared the dishes and loaded the dishwasher. When I came out, Mama was there. An Shan stood at the door of the master bedroom, looking at us.

Mama told me, "Wait here."

She turned and walked towards An Shan. Mama went into the room and took the doorknob. An Shan cast one final, confused, and fearful look at me before the door shut.

I waited.

After five minutes, I broke out my phone.

When fifteen passed, I turned on the television.

Thirty-five minutes passed before I heard the door open. I turned, expecting to see An Shan, but it was Mama who signaled for me to follow her. Shutting off the television, I rose and walked to the bedroom.

An Shan passed me on her way out. Stonefaced, she didn't utter a word or even cast a glance at me.

Before, I had felt curious. After I saw An Shan, I grew nervous. Clearly, Mama did not want any communication between An Shan and me during this transition. What the fuck was I about to face?

Mama shut the door and sat on An Shan's little throne of a make-up chair. Instead of facing the wall mirror and small make-up table, the red chair was facing the foot of the bed. Mama gestured for me to sit on the bed, facing her.

I did.

Sitting upright, she folded her hands in her lap and asked, "Has this so-called love affair between the two of you resulted in dishonor to the family?"

I swallowed in an increasingly dry throat. "You mean--are you asking if An Shan--?"

"Is she pregnant with your child?"

"No!" I blurted. Then, clearing my throat, I more calmly said, "No, Mama. We haven't even--we haven't done that."

"I see," Mama said. Her body visibly relaxed. Then, she smiled, raised her hands in a gesture of invitation, and said, "Tell me your love story."

Instantly, I knew I should have anticipated such a question. If Mama's purpose was "to see," then it made all the sense in the world for her to wish to know how her children went from siblings to lovers.

There was a problem. What had An Shan said? How candid had she been? Do I dare tell Mama just how intimate we had been? How does one tell one's mother about such things? Oral sex--anal!--for fuck's sake! Did An Shan tell Mama--? I couldn't even finish the thought.

Making it worse was that if what I said somehow contradicted my meimei, then what? Would Mama refuse to bless our relationship?

I began telling her. I began with jiating zeren, family duty. I told her about how I felt like the otter in her story--loved but never quite perfectly integrated. I shared with her the story about An Shan's dress rehearsal for Berklee. I invited her to remember how her daughter and I had spent so much time together in the basement--our conversations and our togetherness.

I explained how that togetherness made us attracted to one another, but how family duty pushed us apart. I reminded Mama how angry An Shan and I were with one another during the summer. I finished by explaining how this animosity continued into my stay in Boston, but that after a long conversation, we couldn't deny our feelings.

I never once mentioned sex.

Throughout my speech, Mama nodded but otherwise remained cool and detached. When I finished, she rose, walked to the door, and called An Shan into the room.

An Shan's eyes remained wide with fear. She did not look at me.

Mama put us on the bed, sitting side by side. She settled in across from her in that little throne. A thought sprang into my head. She's going to make us kiss, it told me.

Mama said, "Kiss one another for me."

"Mama!" An Shan protested.

Mama waved her hand dismissively. "You say you are in love," she countered. "Lovers kiss. They don't care who sees."

An Shan and I glanced at each other. She turned back towards Mama. "But--," she began arguing.

Mama interrupted. "I know a lover's kiss. I have seen them. I have done them. I will know if I see. Show me your lover's kiss."

An Shan sighed in a vexed way.

I drew her face towards me.

Her eyes were glassy. Her skin was cold, and she trembled.

"And," Mama added, "I will know if one of you is not in love."

My meimei gulped. I brought her to me, but I didn't kiss her. I whispered into her ear. "I love you, and I will put a stop to her if you want."

I felt her lips close to my ear. "No. I don't think you're supposed to, and I'm scared, Gege."

"Then, let me kiss you softly. Just close your eyes and feel my lips on yours."

She hummed a tiny assent into my ear.

Drawing back, I watched her close her eyes, open her lips, and wait for me. I took her into my arms firmly, and I kissed her with all of the tenderness I could summon. At first, she melted into it. Her body seemed limp. I held the kiss long beyond my planned exit. An Shan moaned into it, and she came to life.

She kissed me back and her lips felt charged with excitement. Our tongues mingled. At one point, we broke apart only to snatch our next breath and come back together an instant later, newly energized.

"Yes," Mama whispered.

Her voice made us both end the kiss. An Shan and I glanced at one another before turning to Mama.

"Stand up, Jian Dao."

I did. Mama rose and stepped in front of me. Her fingers reached up toward the collar of my shirt. She began to unfasten the buttons.

I glanced at her.

She said, "You will relax."

I tried. Tugging the shirt out of my slacks, she finished unbuttoning it and pulled it off of me. I wore no undershirt, so I stood in front of Mama and An Shan bare-chested.

I glanced at An Shan. She was extremely nervous.

"Mama," I began, "what's happening?"

"Take off your shoes and socks."

"Mama?"

"Do it, Jian Dao," An Shan muttered. "Please."